The Beat Of Your Heart
by rgrsstvn
Summary: TV darling Brittany Pierce never expected that the favor she was asked to do would mean being brought face to face with her ex-girlfriend, Santana Lopez. Now a mega star music sensation, Santana's quick to make it clear she wants nothing to do with Brittany, but Brittany's always believed in fate, and there's no way she's letting Santana go again. An AU Brittana Future Fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hey everyone! This is a story that has been rattling around in my head for AGES, and I finally decided to get it down now that I'm getting back into writing. For those of you that are following Nightingale, don't worry, I'm still working on that, but I wanted to get this done and hopefully get some writing mojo back. Hope you enjoy!

 **Chapter 1**

If there was one thing Brittany Pierce knew, it was that fate had a way of screwing with her. After all, it was fate that had opened up the doors for her and Sam to move to Los Angeles when they both finally finished high school. It was fate that had landed them an apartment when someone just happened to be moving out and didn't care that neither of them had jobs or money to their name. It was fate that led to Mike moving out to the city to join them, opening up a dance studio and giving Brittany a job. It was fate that had made her the one to get the call when a local television show needed a dancer to help choreograph a few scenes. And it was fate that had given her a job on that same TV show, meeting the creator that day and being offered a part by lunch time.

She'd never been one to fight fate, having learned to go with the flow many years ago, which is why she was standing off to the side of what was clearly controlled chaos, sipping on her coffee and waiting for someone to come up and direct her to where she needed to be. At least, that's what she'd been told was happening when she'd been ushered inside, someone with one of those blue ear things hardly acknowledging her when she'd asked where the music video shoot was. She supposed she should have been used to it by now, having worked in Hollywood for over four years, but it still took her by surprise when people didn't bother with common courtesy. People had always been mean, especially to Brittany when she didn't know what was going on around her, but Hollywood mean was a whole different level that she still wasn't quite comfortable around.

Her soft blue eyes scanned the scene in front of her, legs crossing as she leaned back against the cold stone wall. She was dressed casually in leggings and a loose t-shirt, solid black as per the instructions Mike had given her when he'd called her far too early that morning from his hotel room in New York. His frazzled and slightly frantic voice had yanked her from sleep into fully alert, Brittany listening when he'd explained that one of his dancers had broken her ankle the night before, and he needed someone to fill in for a music video shoot that day. He'd explained that it was a dance solo, that they had a general idea of what they wanted, but she'd have the time to practice and come up with her own choreography before the shoot started. He'd finished off his spiel with a few well-placed begs, knowing exactly how to get Brittany to agree to it. He was her very best friend, and after everything that he'd done for her since she moved to LA, she owed him ten times over.

And so, here she was, her coffee quickly cooling while she waited for someone to show her where exactly she could rehearse this dance solo. She sipped on it absentmindedly, not really tasting it but hoping that it would wake her up somewhat before she had to create a dance to a still unknown song. She didn't worry about it too much, though. She may have given up dancing professionally for her now starring role on one of the biggest teen dramas on TV today, but she could still move, and never seemed to struggle with dance coming back to her. It would come back to her just like riding a bike, or something.

"You must be Brittany!" a bright and cheery voice called out to her, eyebrows arching as her head turned to find the source. A young man, dressed fashionably in a clearly tailored and custom made suit, was grinning widely as he moved towards her. His curly hair was perfectly styled and shoes shining, and Brittany got the impression that he spent more time getting ready than she did on an average morning. "Mike called me not too long ago and explained the situation. Such a shame about Tiffany. She was a great dancer." There was something about the way he said it that made Brittany think that perhaps he wasn't too concerned, but she didn't comment. This was Hollywood, after all, and dog eat dog was pretty much the norm. "I'm Mason, and I'll be getting you all set up today. How are you? Do you need anything? Another coffee?"

Before she could answer, Mason was reaching for her elbow, tugging gently in a sign that he wanted her to follow as he led her around the massive warehouse space. "This is obviously where we'll be doing the shooting," he said as he gestured towards the middle of the room, where an elaborate stage was being set up, machines and lights rigged all around it. "You'll have pretty much the entire space to do what you need to, but I went ahead and measured out a box for you of what will fit in the cameras without making it too difficult for anyone. I've got someone marking that off in a room down the hall for you so you can practice."

Brittany wasn't quite able to get a word in, Mason's words coming rapidfire as he weaved in and out of people with an obvious sense of familiarity, as though he lived in this sort of chaos every day. "It's only…" He trailed off as he lifted his arm up into view, the watch suddenly coming to life and displaying the time, "9:45 now, so you've got about two hours in order to throw something together. Then everyone will want to see what you've got, and you'll have another hour to do some tweaking, if need be. Camera guys will need to make sure everything will fit and steady cams can follow you, and that the down times don't pull from our star. Sound like a plan to you?"

Brittany nodded silently, taking another sip of her coffee and coming to a stumbling halt when Mason stopped his quest to lead her through the chaos. "Oh damn," he muttered, dropping her arm and glancing around the room, "I forgot…Brittany, can you just hang tight here for a second? I need to go grab some paperwork before my boss gets here. She's super sweet but she can be hashtag evil if you get on her bad side and I am SO not in the mood to deal with that today." Brittany swallowed thickly while nodding, suddenly concerned about this job she'd agreed to. Mason hadn't even explained his connection to this whole ordeal, but it was obvious he worked for someone important. Brittany hated Hollywood big wigs and their nastiness and avoided it with a passion. She suddenly regretted agreeing to help Mike out, favors be damned.

Not wanting to be in anyone's way, Brittany wandered around the room, eyes lighting up when she saw the breakfast table laid out. That was one of her favorite parts about working on a TV set. Catered food was always delicious, and it was clear that this shoot wasn't going to be any different despite being a smaller scale than she was used to. "Score," she said under her breath, closing the gap and grabbing the tastiest looking pastry she could find.

"Oh, those are my favorite!" Mason chirped from over her shoulder, coming to stand beside her and smiling a wide smile that Brittany couldn't tell was genuine or not. "It's a shame I've sworn off all sugar, because I could so go for a pastry right about now." He rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, Brittany seeing the longing in his eyes and feeling momentarily sorry for him. Before she had a chance to comment and try to get him to break his clearly miserable diet, he was glancing down at the papers in his hand, shuffling them until he apparently found what he was looking for.

"Okay, so like I said, two hours of rehearsal time, then another hour for tweaks. Your dance break is about 45 seconds in the middle of the song. For the rest of that, you'll be a featured part of the story, but it'll be super easy to catch up, so don't even worry. Here's the director's notes," he continued, handing her a few papers, "and there's already a computer in your practice room that's loaded with an mp3 of the song. Regular and half speed. Mike said you're good at on the fly choreography, so just do what you can and the boss will tweak whatever she wants."

"Oh, I doubt tweaking will be necessary," a voice spoke from behind her, Brittany's entire body standing on edge as goosebumps erupted on her skin. It was a voice she hadn't heard in years, at least not in person, and her stomach dropped as her mind worked into overdrive, connecting all of the dots with missing information before her tongue shot out to wet suddenly dry lips.

"Santana!" Mason said brightly, moving around Brittany to greet the woman behind them, her body still frozen in place and unable to turn around. "There you are. I was just showing your new dancer, Brittany, around, getting her acquainted before I got her into her rehearsal room."

"I gathered as much," the woman spoke again, Brittany swallowing thickly before taking in a shaky breath. "And like I said, I really doubt that tweaking will be necessary. If Brittany Pierce is the one doing the dancing, I'm sure it will be perfect the first time around."

There was something in the tone of voice that made Brittany ache, the tone distant and flat. It was a tone of voice Brittany hadn't heard for years, even before they had gone their separate ways. Her body finally waking up from the spell she'd been put under, Brittany forced herself to turn around, coming face to face with the woman she hadn't seen since she'd been in high school. _Santana Lopez_.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Welp. I'll be completely honest, I sort of forgot about all of this for the last…year? Two years? Things have been crazy but I've decided to try writing again, so I'm back! I've tweaked the story outline for this, and my aim is one chapter a week, so hopefully this story can come together. Here's Chapter 2! PS. I moved some from the end of chapter 1 to here due to the flow. I think it works better this way.

 **Chapter 2**

 _Santana Lopez._

She was like a ghost, suddenly back and standing in front of Brittany, smacking her in the face with a reminder of the life she'd left behind in Ohio. Almost instantly, her mind was filled with memories. The two of them, cheering together side by side. The struggles as Santana fought against the true feelings she had for Brittany. Being out and proud, holding hands together and the way Santana kissed her when they'd won Nationals. The ache of watching her car drive away, packed to the brim with her entire life as she left Brittany behind for her new life in college. Breakups and heartache, secret meet ups when they were both living a farce of having moved on. And the final straw, the last time she'd seen Santana. Mr Schuester's wedding, when she'd run into her in the hallway, Santana stumbling back from saying goodbye to Quinn. It had been their final conversation, the one that had broken any possibility of them getting back together.

In the moments she had before anyone spoke, Brittany took in the woman standing in front of her. She'd seen, and heard, enough about Santana to not be completely taken back by the changes that were so evident, but seeing her there, in the flesh, was still a shock. She was older, but still as beautiful as she'd been at nineteen, her hair long and flowing where it hung over one shoulder. In a tank top and sweatpants, she looked nothing like the mega superstar she'd become in the years past, the tattoo that curled around her shoulder and single, metal loop at the corner of her lips the only things that stood out to Brittany as so obviously different.

The subtle changes were there, though, and before Brittany could stop herself, she felt sadness at the realization that she hadn't been there to see them happen. Santana was less of the young, scared girl she'd only let Brittany see behind her Lima Heights facade, and more of a gorgeous woman who'd come into her own and carved her way into superstardom without ever looking back. Her eyes were more guarded, darker and not like the warm brown Brittany was so used to having directed at her.

Before she could continue her thirsty gaze, unaware of just how much she was drinking in the woman standing in front of her, Santana cleared her throat, eyes that had been a familiar, soft brown, morphing into blank darkness as she turned to Mason. "Tell your sister I want to start getting ready in the next thirty minutes. She and her team better be ready, 'cause this is her last chance. She fucks this up again, she's out. I don't care if you're two halves of the same pie or whatever weird incest-y nonsense you spieled to get her this job in the first place. You're my assistant, not my friend."

"I- I'll let her know," Mason stuttered out, Brittany catching the tone of confusion beneath the obvious worry in his voice. Without another word, Santana was stepping forward, Brittany's eyes widening slightly when she thought Santana was moving towards her. Embarrassment flushed through her when Santana moved past her, not even bothering to glance Brittany's way as she passed by. Brittany sucked in a breath as she passed, not prepared for the wave that hit her at a scent that was still so obviously Santana. She was definitely still Santana, warmth with a hint of vanilla and brown sugar and everything nice.

"Um," Mason said, catching a hint of the vibe between the two but obviously clueless as to it's origins, "how about I show you that practice space?"

"Yeah," Brittany finally said, shaking her head slightly and downing the rest of her cold coffee in one go. "Yeah, let's do that."

She followed Mason without another word, listening to him apologize for making her wait and explain that he was Santana's assistant. She'd already put that much together, but the confirmation was an interesting tidbit, especially when she considered the way he'd spoken of his boss earlier. It was obvious he was scared of Santana, and Brittany could certainly see why. She'd always had a commanding presence about her, and it'd only grown stronger in the years since they'd parted.

When Mason opened the door to a small room and gestured inside, Brittany forced herself to push thoughts of Santana aside. It would be all but impossible, since she's put the obvious together and surmised that this was a shoot for Santana's music video, but she had to remain professional. Brittany loved her job, and her life, and the last thing she needed when her star was just on the rise was for word to get out that she wasn't 100% willing and pleasant on any set she stepped foot on. All it took was one bad experience to ruin her career, and as much as she disliked the fame, she loved the performing. It was easy, and it made sense like few other things in Brittany's life did.

"I'll be back in about two hours," Mason said, his cheery persona back in place as though nothing had changed. She supposed it hadn't for him, Mason none the wiser of her history with Santana. She'd clearly shared little of her former life with Brittany with her bubble assistant, Mason showing no sign of recognition when he'd met Brittany. It stung, but Brittany supposed she had no reason to be surprised. Santana had made it perfectly clear when she'd walked away from Brittany that day in the hotel that there was nothing left between them, that the hurt had fractured their bond beyond repair.

The door shut silently behind her, Brittany blowing out a breath before glancing around the space. The taped out shape on the floor was massive, more than enough space for Brittany to move freely like she preferred. She set her things down on a small table by the door, before kicking off her shoes and walking over to the small computer hooked up to a large sound system. iTunes was already up, only two tracks available in the library, the regular and half speeds just like Mason had said. Brittany played the first, hitting the repeat button before moving into the middle of the room to start stretching.

It was a fast paced song with a steady beat and heavy bass, and almost instantly Brittany imagined moves in her head, humming along once she got the rhythm down. It was definitely a Santana Lopez song, the need to get up and dance something she'd come to expect with every new track of her ex-girlfriend's that she heard.

While stretching, she looked over the director's notes Mason had given her, wanting to get an idea of what was expected of her. It was primarily a dancing role with minimal acting, her dance break covering the "drop" in the song that served as a break before the ending chorus. Mike's notes from his work with the original dancer were included, and Brittany made sure to read them over, knowing he'd have the best feedback to help her come up with something that would make everyone, including Santana, happy. She made a mental note to remind herself to yell at him later, knowing there was no way he'd offered this job to her without knowing who else was involved.

With a quiet sigh, she pushed herself from the floor, setting the notes aside before moving back into the center of the room. She'd practice it over and over, and move at half speed a few times to perfect the small nuances, but she'd always been a natural mover. Dancing came easiest when she didn't think, just let herself feel and let those same feelings come out through her movements.

As she began to dance, listening to the words of the song that spoke of love of devotion, Brittany couldn't help but think about that fate she'd been musing on before. She'd never bothered to question fate before, letting the ups and downs of life lead her along naturally. It had given her a great life, a gorgeous home, and a successful career in a city that she'd grown to love. She'd had her low points, had experienced enough sadness, but it had always led her to something even greater that seemed to make it all worth it. But she couldn't help but curse fate now, when it had somehow dealt her the twisted hand of her first dancing job in years, dancing lead in the music video for her megastar DJ and pop music god ex-girlfriend.

Somewhere, fate was sitting back and laughing at her, that much was for sure.

 **A/N:** Feedback is very much appreciated, especially as I try to get my writing groove back. Thanks, y'all!


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